


Interrogation

by AssassinEnigma



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alana Rose Dorian, Assassins, F/M, Francois Charles Dorian, Maria Williams, Paris (City), Paris - Freeform, Paris Commune, Templars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssassinEnigma/pseuds/AssassinEnigma
Summary: May, 1871. Near the end of the Commune, Master Assassin Alana Rose Dorian is investigating a building owned by the National Guard. While doing so, she is blindsided by some National Guardsmen, and taken in for interrogation. What will follow after the interrogation?





	Interrogation

Alana awoke in a sea of darkness. 

It was only a matter of time before members of the National Guard would find out that the Assassins were involved in supporting the Paris Commune. While she was out surveying a possible Templar-National Guard coalition building, she was beset by four National Guard soldiers and captured, ready to be taken to an unknown location. Alana could hear chatter amongst her captives.

“Who is this?” The first voice bellowed.

“Alana Dorian. The Iron Rose of Britain. She’s an Assassin”

“You sure it’s her?” The first voice asked. “Why’s she here in Paris?”

“Probably supporting the bloody commune I’d imagine.”

“Why don’t we fucking ask her?” The first voice replied, as he ripped the burlap sack off of Alana’s head. Alana looked down to see blood welling from her mouth. Her white shirt was stained from the blood coming out of her mouth.The man with black hair propped up Alana’s head, grabbing her chin and looking at her tattered shirt It was ripped open down from the collar, her black bustier revealing itself. Alana tried to move her arms, but discovered they were bound to the wooden she was sitting in. Alana looked up to see two men, one with black hair and the other brown, wearing blue military uniforms. On their collar was a mark Alana knew all too well: The Mark of Cain.

_ Great. Templars. Ask away you jumping cowards. You’re going to get nothing out of me. _

“So the great Iron Rose has come to Paris. Now tell us why you’re supporting the Commune?”

Alana didn’t say a word. For her silence she was gifted with a slap from the man with brown hair. Alana spat out the blood welling in her mouth. 

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t speak. But I’ll try nonetheless.” The man with black hair informed the bound Assassin. “Why are you supporting the Commune…”

The man with brown hair leaned over towards his comrade and whispered something into his ear. He nodded his head and smiled before shifting his focus back to Alana. He placed his hands behind his back before he spoke again.

“I’ll ask you this again. Why are you supporting the Commune?” The black haired man asked gruffly. “I was also informed that you know the location of a group of Assassin anarchists. Care to tell us?”

Alana looked back up at her captors, locking eyes with the man who questioned her.

“Why are you asking a socialist about the location of anarchists?” Alana replied sarcastically.

The man with the black hair gripped what remained of Alana’s shirt by the collar and leaned in close.

“I guess your stubbornness will be your downfall, Iron Rose.”

He ripped what remained of Alana’s shirt and tossed it on the ground. The man ran his hands through his hair as he pointed at the burlap sack on the ground, ordering the brown haired man to place it back on Alana’s head. He heeded his order, and firmly secured it on to her head, leaving Alana in darkness once more. Her captors’ voices became muffled again.

“Where shall we take her Martin?”

“Pere Lachaise Cemetery, Eric. Line her up against the wall next to her family’s crypt.”

“Very well, boss.” Eric replied, as he propped Alana up forcibly to her feet by her arms, leading her out of the room towards a carriage.

Alana groaned as she was shoved aggressively into the carriage, landing on her right shoulder. She could feel a sharp pain shoot from her right shoulder as the carriage began to roll across the cobbled street towards the cemetery, towards her doom.

* * *

  
  


The door was opened aggressively and Alana was forced out of the carriage. After being forced to her feet, the burlap sack was ripped off of Alana’s head. Looking around, she could see two men propped up against the wall, with the middle spot open for her. Behind the three riflemen was the Dorian Family Crypt, where her Grandmother Elise and Grandfather Arno Dorian were interred. She noticed that the door to the crypt was slightly ajar.

“Move, woman.” Eric ordered, shoving Alana into the wall, her right shoulder contacting the wall. Pain seared through her body, her heart was racing as her bare back faced the barrels of the rifles. Alana was starting to feel woozy, and was beginning to accept the fact that her death was imminent.

“Ready!”

The executioners lifted their rifles into the air.

“Aim!”

Their rifles were lowered and cocked.

_ Just be done with it already. _

“FIRE!”

The rifles were fired. Alana closed her eyes in panic, and opened them again, seeing that the two men were dead through the faded view of a smoke screen. She was alive. The pain from her shoulder was so strong that she was forced to her knees. She pinned her head against the wall, ready to black out. Alana heard the sound of a Hidden Blade and a rapier was all she heard before passing out from the immense pain.

* * *

Alana blinked a few times before she woke up. Initially she thought she was going to wake up inside of a morgue, but as her vision slowly came back to her, Alana realized she was in her grandmother’s room in the Assassin Headquarters underneath the Cafe Theatre. She looked down to see she was wearing her black bustier as she propped herself up in her seat. She looked up to see her uncle Francois walk into the doorway, easily recognizable by his orange and grey hair.

“Hello Alana. Good to see that you are awake. How is your shoulder doing, and what all happened out in the field?”

Without reaching for her shoulder, Alana felt more pain scream from her shoulder, as if her shoulder was separated.

Alana let out a deep breath. “It’s been better. Those National Guardsmen really packed a punch. A few of them jumped me while I surveyed the area of a National Guard building and interrogated me about some anarchists who worked for the Brotherhood. So they led me to their execution site, which was within the cemetery walls, not far from the family crypt. I managed to survive, the other two men weren’t so lucky. After that, someone rescued me and brought me back here.”

Francois placed his hand on his bearded chin and looked over to an outfit on the dresser.

“Hmmm. That person who rescued you also left you this outfit.”

Alana looked over to see her bracer sitting on the dresser. Beside it was a folded collared shirt and beige breeches. On top was a teal vest. Francois handed Alana the vest and shirt, turning away for a few moments while Alana got changed. She slid the white shirt on and buttoned up her shirt, followed up by Alana putting on the teal vest and clipping on her pocketwatch. She peeled off her tattered brown breeches and put on the beige breeches, doing up the belt last. Alana loved how the breeches hugged her hips. Francois walked back into the room, and smiled upon seeing his niece in her new garb. She looked like quite the professional.

“Thank you for the new outfit uncle!” Alana exclaimed, turning around to check herself out in the mirror.

“Thought you’d like it. The person who rescued you thought it would be a suitable outfit for your life in Germany.”

“Who was this person that rescued me? Was it one of your Assassins?”

“I rescued you, Alana.”

Alana recognized the voice, but couldn’t put a name to it. It was only when Francois moved out of the way that Alana realized it was her best friend Maria Williams who had rescued her and given her a new outfit.

“Maria!” Alana hugged her best friend, nearly knocking off Maria’s spectacles. “Thank you for rescuing me! And this new outfit, I love it!”

“It’s the least I can do, friend.” Maria replied, patting her friend on the left shoulder before fixing her black hair.

“What brought you to Paris, Maria?”Alana asked curiously, crossing her arms.

“I heard you were traveling to Paris, so I thought I’d meet you here on your travels. Dropping off your outfit here, I then caught wind in the theatre that they were going to execute you in the cemetery, so I hid in your family crypt until they positioned you. Right as they fired, I assassinated the guard, causing his shot to go astray. I fended off the other riflemen and brought you back here.”

Alana smiled and gave her friend another hug. “Thank you again, Maria. For everything.”

“Plus I visited Paris because I wanted to learn more about the French Assassins.”

Alana looked over towards her uncle and shared a smirk before returning her focus to Maria.

“Don’t you want to head back to Bremen as soon as possible though, Maria?” Francois asked, calming the eager bespectacled Assassin down.

Maria looked over to Alana before looking back over towards Francois. 

“Alana looks exhausted as all hell. I don’t think she would be fit to travel. Plus someone would have to look after Vienna and Cavan while you rest, and that there is so much more to learn about the French Assassins…”

“I think you’ve made your point, Maria.” Alana chuckled. “I’ll lie down and rest, then we will leave tomorrow morning. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a plan with me. I’ll be in the archives with Vienna and Cavan if you need me, Francois.” 

Francois nodded his head as he exited the room. Alana walked up to the edge of the bed and sat down. She stretched for a few moments, going easy on her right shoulder before lifting her legs up onto the bed, placing her head on the pillow, earning herself a well earned rest after a brush with death.


End file.
